


Maybe Again

by omg-kent-mashkov (Sotheylived)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Get Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Showers, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:49:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotheylived/pseuds/omg-kent-mashkov
Summary: When Holster finds out Ransom is going to propose to March he has a bit of a meltdown. Luckily for him, Bitty knows exactly how he feels.“What?!” Bitty’s voice goes up two octaves. He’s going to have a heart attack and die naked in the shower.  “No we can’t shower together oh my god!”





	1. Chapter One

"This pie'll be cool enough to eat if you wait a minute," Bitty says, looking back down at his phone. 

Holster is frozen in the doorway with his back to Bitty when he says, "Uh no thanks Bits, I'm not hungry." 

Bitty turns to face Holster so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "Are you okay?" he says, just now taking in the line of Holster's shoulders, so tense he's nearly vibrating. 

Holster nods without saying a word and Bitty knows for certain now something is seriously wrong. He walks close enough to Holster so that he can reach out and touch him if he were so inclined. "You know you can always talk to me, right?" 

"What if it's about some - something stupid?" Holster says, choking over the words as though he's just barely holding back tears. 

Bitty reaches out and touches Holster's elbow. "Even then." 

Holster finally turns to look at Bitty and his face is flushed a blotchy red, teeth dug in roughly to his bottom lip, and eyes glassy. "Oh," Bitty breathes, "What is it?" 

Holster takes a shaky breath and wipes the back of his hand at his eyes. "Ransom's going to ask March to marry him," he says, barely able to get the words out. "And I'm the shittiest friend in the universe because I should be happy for him, but I - I -" Holster shakes his head and bites down on his lip hard. 

"You are most certainly not a bad friend for being a little upset about that," Bitty says, reaching for Holster who falls into the embrace so forcefully it damn near knocks Bitty off balance. Holster's shoulders shake and Bitty can feel the other man's tears dampening his shirt. He makes soft shushing sounds and rubs Holster's back gently. Bitty normally feels a little awkward initiating physical contact with boys, but right now that’s the furthest thing from his mind. 

After a long moment Holster pulls back and sniffles, wiping his hands beneath his puffy eyes. "Sorry bro," he says, cheeks pink. "Your shirt is kind of gross now." 

His shirt is soaked through at the shoulder, but Bitty doesn't particularly care. "What do you say we go up to my room and you devour this pie?" 

Holster's lips twitch up into a small smile, and Bitty's heart clenches for him. They go up to Bitty's room and sit side by side on the bed, shoulders touching as they pass the pie tin and a fork between them. For a long while Holster doesn't say anything, just munches on the pie and occasionally opens his mouth as though to speak before popping it closed again. 

"You know," Bitty says after a long while, "I’m sure Ransom taking this step is scary but you have to know that he isn't going to ditch you just because he has someone else in his life." 

Holster glances at Bitty before holding his hands out for the pie. Bitty passes over the tin without any fight. He honestly is only pretending to eat more of it at this point so Holster doesn't feel weird. Holster shoves a couple bites in his mouth before he speaks. 

"It's not that I'm afraid we won't still be besties," Holster says, and now Bitty's confused because he hadn't even considered it was anything else. "It's that he's in a committed possibly forever relationship, and I'm really  _ really _ not." 

Bitty’s sure the confusion must be showing on his face because of course Ransom and Holster are going to keep being friends - they’re  _ Ransom and Holster. _

"I've been in love with him since freshman year." 

“Oh,” Bitty says, stunned into near silence. 

"I thought with graduation only a semester away I had to tell him because I could never live with having never told him how I feel. I had to give it a shot," he says and Bitty nods because knows exactly what Holster means. 

"You know what happened when I went into our room to tell him I'm in love with him?" Holster asks in a tone that Bitty can't exactly read. "I opened the door and he was sitting there at his desk with a ring in his hand and for a second I thought that he felt the same - that it was for me. I'm such an idiot." Bitty opens his mouth to protest but Holster plows on, "Anyway, luckily he saved me from making a fool of myself by asking me if I thought March would love it before I could say anything stupid." Holster shakes his head self deprecatingly, "God I'm so dumb. I think I told Ransom that March would love it but I honestly have no idea, I just had to get out of there and - well you know what happened after that," Holster says, gesturing between Bitty and himself. 

"I’m so sorry Holster," Bitty says, knocking his foot into Holster's calf. "If it makes you feel better I did the whole make a fool of yourself thing and it definitely didn't turn out any better." 

Holster looks at Bitty for the first time since they came into his room. "Jack?"

Bitty nods, looking down at his lap. "I may have confessed that I was in love with him after his graduation last year and," Bitty huffs a breath thinking back to the shock and little bit of panic on Jack's face, "let's just say it didn't go well. Good news is we're still really good friends and I'm totally over him." 

Holster raises a brow and Bitty caves, smiling a little, "Okay maybe not totally." 

"We're such a mess Bitty," Holster says knocking his shoulder into Bitty's. 

"That we are Holster." They fall into companionable silence for a minute before Bitty says,"You know, I didn't even know you were ... bi?" 

Holster laughs and it comes out sounding a little deranged. "Yeah no brah, I'm hella gay." 

"Oh," Bitty says because he knows that he's seen Holster leave parties with girls before, though now that Bitty thinks on it Holster was always at the Haus back before he’d woken up the next morning. 

Holster must read what he's thinking in that  _ oh _ because he says, "That's actually the first time I've ever said it out loud." Holster laughs and the sound is all wrong. "Here I am pretending to go home with girls because I could barely even admit it to myself and then you come along and do something in three months that I couldn't even do in three years." 

Bitty reaches over and squeezes Holster's hand. "Everyone comes out at their own pace," Bitty says. "I'm just glad that we can complain about boys together now." Bitty smiles up at Holster.  

"Oh they're the worst, aren't they?" Holster says, knocking his shoulder into Bitty's affectionately. He'll be okay - they both will.

* * *

 

A few days after Holster's confession, Bitty is in the kitchen making a blueberry pie. Some of the guys had given him a hard time about the lack of variety, but once he tells them that blueberries are on sale and they can make their own pies from now on if they don't stop asking for other flavors, the rest of the Haus stops harassing him about making Holster's favorite pie three times in a row. 

Bitty's humming along to his fruit pie baking playlist when he feels someone behind him and turns. Holster's standing just a little too close to be considered completely normal, but then again Holster has never really had personal boundaries with his friends. Bitty pulls out an earbud and smiles up at Holster. 

"This pie should be done in a jiffy," Bitty says. “Though maybe I should stop with the blueberry soon or else the other boys might commit mutiny." 

Holster laughs, loud and booming - far more enthusiastic than the joke really deserves. Holster doesn't say anything, but he doesn't really leave the kitchen either. He shifts a little from foot to foot, before swiping a stray blueberry off the counter and popping it into his mouth in a feigned attempt at being casual. 

Bitty starts to ask if everything's okay but cuts himself off. When everything went down with him and Jack, sure he'd wanted to talk about it at first, but more than anything he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. "Do you want to help me make it?" he asks, even though no one other than the frogs has really ever shown any interest in baking with him before. 

Holster's entire face lights up and he bounds forward towards the counter where the dough for the crust is sitting. "Yeah," he says, "okay what should I do?" 

"First," Bitty says, thwacking Holster on the back of his hand with a wooden spoon, "you'll wash your hands." 

"Right." Holster darts over to the sink and is back at the counter faster than Bitty would've thought humanly possible. It makes him happy that Holster's so excited about baking with him. 

"Okay now what Bitty Bits?" Holster says plugging his phone into the ipod dock and putting on a pop station. 

"Why don't you start with rolling out that crust thin for me while I get to work on this filling?" Bitty says turning away from Holster and towards the filling. 

"This is so exciting," Holster says, and Bitty bites his lip to tamp down a fond smile. "Bitty I'm baking! Tell me all your baking secrets - I'm going to quit college and hockey and become a baker." 

The smile breaks free completely at that and he laughs. As Holster begins rolling the dough, Bitty starts in on the filling. He tells him about his family's great jam debate and is pleasantly surprised when Holster does more than hum in the right places. He asks questions and pokes Bitty in the shoulder with a flour covered finger when Bitty dares suggest that his aunt was right over his mother. 

When Bitty's just about done with the filling Holster says, "uh oh," from behind him. 

Bitty whips around to see Holster poking at a huge hole in the center of the blob of dough that's meant to be crust. 

"Wait, I can fix this," Holster says, ripping off a strip of dough from the edge and patching it over the center. 

Bitty brings up his hand to hide his laugh. "Wait stop stop you're mutilating that poor pie." 

"Hang on I can fix this edge," Holster says, taking the rolling pin and trying to mend the center and fix the jagged edge at the same time. He’s using the rolling pin so aggressively that the entire crust moves with each roll. 

"Oh my god Holster," Bitty says, touching Holster's arm to stop him. "What in the world did that pie ever do to you?" 

Holster huffs and releases the rolling pin, turning towards Bitty. He lets out a loud guffaw and gestures to his nose. "Did you eat a smurf?" he asks, laughing, "Your entire mouth is blue." 

"Don't try to distract me from that massacre you're making of the crust Adam," Bitty says, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

Holster bursts into laughter and Bitty can't help smiling in response. It's been too long since Holster's seemed really happy. "You just made it so much worse bro," Holster says gesturing to his cheek and nose. 

Bitty grabs a paper towel and runs it under the sink for a moment before swiping at his face. "There," he says, pulling the it away. "Better?" 

Holster laughs again and Bitty can't remember the last time Holster seemed so carefree - actually he can and it was exactly six hours before he found the other boy crying in the kitchen. Holster makes reaches for the paper towel and Bitty gives it up willingly. He swipes at the corner of Bitty's mouth with surprising gentleness. Bitty flicks his gaze up to catch Holster's before flitting away at the proximity. 

"There," Holster says, clearing his throat as he draws back. "All clean." He moves to go back to that poor dough and Bitty grabs his arm to stop him. 

"Oh no," Bitty says, "I think you've done enough to this crust. I better try to salvage it." He nudges Holster out of the way and begins kneading the dough. Hopefully it won't get too tough after being handled so much. He's debating on dumping it completely and starting from scratch when the sound blaring out of the ipod comes to a jarring halt. 

Bitty turns to see Holster pocketing his phone. Even from behind, Bitty can see the slump to his shoulders and the shuffle of his steps - a stark contrast to the loud booming laughter a moment ago and Bitty's heart splinters. 

"Hey Adam," he calls. "Can you get the pie tin out from the cupboard over there," he says, gesturing with his flour covered fingers. 

Holster gets the tin and deposits it onto the counter without a word. He looks as if he's going to try leaving again and Bitty isn't going to let him - not in a worse mood than when he came in. Bitty gets the crust ready in the tin and he should let it chill for at least 15 minutes so the bottom doesn't get soggy when they pour the filling in, but Holster still looks like a kicked puppy and so what if the pie doesn't come out perfect. 

"Now I need you to pour that filling in here and help me with this lattice." 

Holster smiles at Bitty a little indulgently like he knows exactly what he's up to. "I don't have to help you know. I know I suck at it." 

Bitty puts his hand on his hip and looks at Holster. "The first pie I ever made on my own was so burnt Coach couldn't cut through it even with his steak knife. I also may or may not have gotten the measurements for salt and sugar mixed up and poured three heaping cups of salt into it." 

A smile flickers to life on Holster's face and Bitty beams at him. "Now are you going to help me finish this or not." 

Holster pops his phone back into the dock and sidles up next to Bitty, pouring in the filling like a pro. 

"Sorry it'll probably come out like shit - I just wanted to be good at something you liked," Holster says so quiet it comes out a confession and Bitty's heart melts because  _ this boy.  _

"I'm sure it'll be delicious," he says, putting a hand on Holster's shoulder and the thought  _ he's even taller than Jack  _ comes unbidden. 

Bitty shows Holster how to start with the lattice and he's actually pretty decent. The two of them finish in no time and Bitty pops it into the oven, shooting Holster a proud smile. When the timer goes off several games of Mario Kart later, Holster races into the kitchen with Bitty close behind him.  

Holster beams as he opens the oven and is reaching in before Bitty can stop him. 

"Ow," he yelps, yanking his hand back. 

"Are you okay?" Bitty says, fighting the inapproriate urge to laugh.  

Holster nods and draws his pointer finger into his mouth. Bitty doesn't feel like laughing anymore. Bitty reaches for the oven mitts and pulls the pie out of the oven, face flush when he turns to face Holster again. Setting the pie down and pulling the oven mitts off, Bitty steps up to Holster. 

"Let me see," he says, holding his hand out. 

The finger pops out of Holster's mouth and Bitty reaches for it. The skin is already red and angry looking. 

"What's the verdict?" Holster asks, looking down at Bitty. 

"You'll live," Bitty says, dropping Holster's hand to go grab some ice out of the freezer. "Next time try to remember the oven mitts though." 

"Next time?" 

Bitty nods, biting back a smile. "Look at that pie Adam, that's a work of art." 

Holster absolutely beams at him and Bitty's heart chooses that moment to give a confused little flutter.


	2. Chapter Two

Over the following few weeks, Holster and Bitty make nearly two dozen pies together, and while Holster doesn’t necessarily improve, he doesn’t get any worse either. He’s also remarkably good at following directions, and Bitty can’t say he minds the company - even if Holster steals more forkfuls than is probably healthy. 

On the night Ransom plans to propose, Holster turns to Bitty with a grin and drags him from the kitchen. 

“Bro, it’s time I returned the favor and taught you how to binge watch.” 

Bitty sits down gingerly in front of the couch, there is no reason to actually touch the thing unless absolutely necessary. “How is binge watching a skill that can be taught?” 

Holster acts wounded by the implication and treats Bitty to a half hour long lecture before hooking his laptop up to the TV. As the credits from the third episode roll, Bitty works up the nerve to ask if Holster’s okay. 

He doesn’t even bother pretending he doesn’t know what Bitty’s asking about. He hums and Bitty cranes his neck up to look at him. 

“It definitely doesn’t feel amazing,” he says slowly, eyes flicking to Bitty’s before going back to the screen. “But it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, now that I’ve had time to get used to the idea. Plus I’m not about to be some fedora wearing ‘nice guy’ who won’t be happy for his friend just because the friend chose someone else. Ransom’s one of my best friends, him loving someone else isn’t gonna change that.” 

“One of your best friends?” Bitty asks, surprise coloring his voice. “Who’re your other best friends.” 

“Shutup,” Holster says, blush blooming high on his cheeks as he leans forward to tell Netflix that  yes they are still watching. 

Bitty turns back to face the TV, unable to hold back his grin. 

By the end of the first season it’s nearing midnight and Bitty’s ass is so numb he’s scared it’ll fall off. He stands up, stretches and is about to tell Holster he’s going to bed when he catches a glimpse of Holster’s face. 

He’s still looking at the screen even though it’s just the countdown before the next episode autoplays. His hands are wrapped around his stomach and Bitty knows that what might not have seemed like a big deal in the early afternoon can feel a lot like the end of the world when it’s late at night. 

“So is the second season part of our agenda for the first binge watching session?” Bitty asks, leaning to crack his back. He so doesn’t want to sit back on the floor, but he also doesn’t want to go up to his room for a blanket so he can sit on the couch. 

Holster smiles and it transforms his face. He unfolds his arms and pats the spot next to him. “Come here,” he says. “Stop looking so tragic, the couch isn’t going to kill you.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Bitty replies, eyeing the unoccupied corner of the couch where he could’ve sworn he just saw something move. 

Holster laughs and makes grabby hands for Bitty. He steps closer to Holster and before he knows what’s happening Holster grabs his waist, twists him around and pulls him back until Bitty is sitting perched on his lap. 

“There,” Holster says, patting Bitty’s thigh once. “Comfier than the floor, but still not touching the couch.” 

Bitty feels a giddy laugh bubble up out of him. He’s never sat on a boy’s lap before and obviously Holster is just being a good friend, but still - it’s a first for him - it would probably be a first for them both if Ransom and Holster weren’t quite so tactile. 

They’re halfway through an episode and Bitty’s still sitting stiffly on Holster’s lap, back ramrod straight, when he hears Holster huff behind him and feels the puff of breath against the back of his neck. 

“Relax, Bitty.” Holster’s hands come up to his shoulders and pull gently until his back is pressed tightly against Holster’s front. 

Bitty wiggles minutely and he has to admit he’s much more comfortable. He lets out a sigh and leans his head back against Holster’s shoulder. He would’ve thought sitting on Holster’s lap would be boney and uncomfortable, but he’s packing enough muscle that it’s actually really perfect. That thought is the last thing Bitty remembers before jolting awake the following morning. 

For one panicked moment Bitty is horrified that Holster left him to sleep on the couch. But after blinking awake he realizes he’s in his room, tucked up under the covers with the shades drawn over his window. Bitty rubs his eyes and yawns before padding over to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

Bitty heads downstairs into the kitchen and sees Holster at the counter with his back to the door stirring a floury mixture.

“Hey,” he says, making Holster jump a little and turn to face him. “Thanks for not letting me fall asleep on that -” Bitty shudders, “couch last night.” 

Holster’s smile is all mischief and Bitty knows that can’t mean anything good. “You actually did kinda fall asleep on the couch.” 

“What?” Bitty says indignant.

Holster dips his hand into the bowl and flicks flour at Bitty. Bitty’s eyebrows raise as he scoffs. He wipes his face and lunges forward, stealing a handful of flour as he goes. Bitty has to jump to reach the top of Holster’s head, but it’s so worth it to rub the flour into his hair. 

Bitty laughs triumphantly and has to stumble back when Holster stalks towards him with intent. He holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Hey,” Bitty says, “you’re the one who let me fall asleep on that cesspool of bacteria - I think that means I’m allowed to dump flour over your head without retaliation.” 

Holster grabs Bitty and wrestles with him light heartedly for a moment before returning to his cooking with a laugh. 

“Okay but be fair, as soon as I realized you had slid off my lap and had 75% of your body on the couch I carried you upstairs.” 

“How did you not realize I fell off your lap?” Bitty asks, handing Holster the milk for what he’s now realized are pancakes. 

Holster ducks his head, flush dusting his cheeks just below his glasses. “I fell asleep too alright?” 

“Fair enough,” Bitty says, decidedly not teasing him about being unable to stay up and binge watch since he’s already embarrassed he didn’t live up to his epic speech.

They spend the rest of the morning making pancakes together which brings the rest of the Haus residents out of hibernation and down to the kitchen. Somehow the frogs and tadpoles get wind of the food as well, so pretty much the whole team is packed into the kitchen when Ransom comes home from his date the night before with a huge smile on his face. 

“She said yes!” he shouts as soon as he enters the kitchen and the room full of hockey players goes absolutely berserk. 

There’s back clapping and shouts of congratulations, Bitty volunteers to make a celebratory pie, and Holster walks over to Ransom and drags him into a long hug. 

“I’m so happy for you man,” he says as he pulls away, and Bitty must not be the only one to hear the roughness of his voice - but he is the only one to know the reason and his heart splinters just a little. 

“Bro,” Ransom says, getting choked up himself, for entirely different reasons as he hugs Holster again. 

Holster returns to Bitty’s side once the second hug is over. The boys (and Lardo) are asking how he popped the question and what she said. Bitty reaches over and grabs Holster’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. When Bitty pulls his hand away Holster throws an arm around his shoulder and drags him a little closer. 

“I really am happy for him Bits,” he whispers to Bitty. 

If only Bitty believed him. 

* * *

The following weeks fly by in a flurry of practices, baking, binge watching and homework. Holster and Ransom still hang out a lot and Holster seems happy. He and Bitty hang out more than ever, and Bitty can’t bring himself to complain about his overenthusiastic 6’4” shadow. 

On the Friday evening two weeks before spring break the entire team gets  _ drunk _ . Each time a new song starts playing Bitty runs over to the speakers and switches it to one of Beyonce’s songs before finally getting shooed out of the room by Ransom and Holster. Bitty is probably a little too drunk right now, but he sneaks back into the room, laughing madly as he changes the song once again. 

As soon as the song starts playing, Holster’s eyes latch onto him from across the room. A smile overtakes his face and he runs over and before Bitty can even react Holster’s got him in a fireman’s hold and is carrying him out of the living room. 

“Oh my gosh,” Bitty says, face startlingly close to Holster’s ass -  _ and it’s so round - how is it so round? _ He reaches out to pat it and as soon as his fingertips graze the top of Holster’s ass he yanks his arm back. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. 

Holster stumbles and grabs onto the wall for support. “Okay,” he says, righting Bitty. “Maybe I should put you down before I drop you.” 

Bitty nods as his feet land on the floor. “You’re really tall.” 

Holster stares at him for a moment, before shaking his head. “I need a shot, or four,” he mumbles before turning on heel towards the kitchen. 

Bitty wants to follow, join him for a shot and maybe convince Holster to help him bake something, but he really should start trying to sober up if he doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow. Bitty heads up the stairs and towards his room, plopping down on his bed. He stares at the ceiling for an indiscernible amount of time, listening to the thumping bass of music from downstairs before deciding that he needs a shower - like now. 

The water takes a minute to warm up, and Bitty has just stepped in when he hears Holster calling him from downstairs, loud voice reverberating over the spray of the showerhead. Bitty ignores him, there’s no way he can project his voice enough to be heard over the shower, let alone the sound of whatever song is playing down at the party. 

The call of “Bitty, Bitter, Bitmeister, Bumpkin Bittlebee,” gets louder as a clearly intoxicated Holster climbs the the stairs. Bitty ignores him. He runs his fingers through his sudsy hair and starts singing. 

“Hi,” Holster says popping his head around the curtain. Bitty screeches and pushes Holster’s head back behind the curtain. His heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest and he takes a deep breath. 

When he was twelve he watched his cousin's dog for a week. Molly was weirdly obsessed with the shower and spent every morning nudging her nose past the shower curtain. On the last day she nosed the curtain aside and clambered right on into the tub with Bitty before he could so much as yelp. And now Bitty can't get the image of a wet, smiling Holster climbing into the shower with him out of his head -  _ football, rotten fruit, coach's beer gut _ Bitty chants to himself, hyper aware of the man sitting perched on the sink behind the not exactly private curtain. 

Taking a deep breath Bitty says, “Holster, what are you doing?” He’s proud of himself for it coming out sounding remarkably normal. 

Holster’s outline through the curtain shrugs and Bitty rinses his hair quickly because the less time spent naked for this conversation the better. Holster stands and suddenly there’s fingers on the edge of the curtain and - _ Moomaw’s canker sores, burnt pie, six page papers _ . 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” His fingers are gripping the curtain tightly, but he hasn’t moved it and Bitty is  _ not  _ disappointed he’s not, he’s not. “Can I come in?” 

“What?!” Bitty’s voice goes up two octaves. He’s going to have a heart attack and die naked in the shower.  “No we can’t shower together, oh my god!” 

“Why not,” Holster says, fingers dropping away from the curtain and he sounds so distraught, and really drunk too, but still. “Ransom and I did.” 

“Oh my god,” Bitty says, brain supplying him with images of his best friend showering with another man and dear lord he’s got to get a handle on himself. Bitty thrusts his arm out of the shower and gropes around for a moment before his towel is placed into his outstretched fingers. “I’m confused,” he says as he shuts off the shower and begins drying off quickly. 

“Or wait,” Holster says, words slurring together a little. “Maybe it was just a dream.” He lets out a huffy laugh. “Yeah I think that was a dream because after I climbed in I slipped and ended up on my knees in front of him with his crotch in my face. It didn’t hurt or anything, plus then I think I sucked him off - ”

“OH MY GOD,” Bitty says and he deserves an award for how understanding he’s been up until this point. “Get out, get out, get out.” 

Holster makes a wounded noise, but he thankfully leaves. Bitty is going to have to bribe Dex to fix the bathroom lock. Bitty huffs and after a moment shucks the towel and turns the shower back on, icy cold.

* * *

 

In the first week following the Almost Shared Shower, as Bitty’s been taken to thinking of it - which he’s embarrassed to admit he’s done more than once, think of it, that is - neither of them bring it up. Though Bitty is convinced that Holster remembers it, because more than once Bitty’s looked up to find Holster dart his gaze away with pink cheeks. 

Holster’s also taken to picking Bitty up whenever he thinks he can get away with it. It’s as ridiculous as it is hilarious which is probably half the reason why instead of grabbing the confectioner’s sugar himself, Holster wraps his arms around Bitty’s waist and lifts him into the air before ducking them both down to one of the lower cabinets where they keep it. Bitty starts laughing so hard that he drops the confectioner’s sugar and they both end up absolutely covered in the stuff.  

Holster starts giggling as well, shifting from his squatting position until his ass is on the floor and Bitty is half draped across him. Bitty slaps Holster on the shoulder light heartedly and slides off his lap so their groins aren’t quite so close together. 

“Oh lord,” Bitty says, using both hands to swipe at the puffs of sugar dusting Holster’s cheeks. “You are ridiculous.” 

Holster’s eyes are soft as he tracks the gentle swiping motion of Bitty’s fingers.

“There,” Bitty says quietly, drawing his hands back. 

“You’ve got,” Holster says, gesturing to his lips. Bitty swipes at his mouth and Holster shakes  his head before reaching out and dragging his thumb over Bitty’s bottom lip with surprising gentleness. His breath hitches.

Bitty leaps up from the floor and tries in vain to dust off his clothes. “We should probably shower,” he says and Holster’s eyes absolutely light up with mischief. Bitty splutters for a moment before backtracking, “I did not - I didn’t mean - don’t you dare chirp me Adam you  _ know  _ I meant separately - we should shower separately.” 

Holster merely laughs and reaches out a hand. Bitty obliges, grasping Holster’s hand to help him up. Of course instead of accepting the hand up, Holster yanks Bitty down too and they end up in a heap on the floor - again. 

Bitty can’t stop laughing as he swipes his hands in the piles of sugar on the floor and smushes it into Holster’s face. Holster tries to jerk away from Bitty and ends up on his back on the floor with Bitty hovering over him. Holster’s laughing so hard his face has turned red and tears leak out of his eyes as he tries to catch Bitty’s hands before he can end up even more covered. 

“You started this,” Bitty says, once Holster catches both of Bitty’s hands in his.

“Yeah,” Holster says, squeezing Bitty’s hands. 

There’s a loud crash from upstairs that jolts them out of their trance and then they’re both standing and Bitty can’t bring himself to meet Holster’s gaze. 

“I guess I did.” 

* * *

The one good thing about being knocked out early in the season and spring break landing late is that Bitty gets to go home to Georgia for the week off. But instead of packing he’s sitting perched on the edge of Lardo’s bed as she packs her own suitcase. She throws a few shirts in her tiny yellow duffel and lets Bitty stew in silence. She’s good at that, letting a silence last until his thoughts get so loud that they just spill right out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna miss y’all when you graduate,” he says even though that wasn’t what he’d intended to say at all. 

“Bits,” Lardo says in warning. “Don’t say the G word.” 

Bitty laughs, and if it comes out a little watery Lardo doesn’t comment. 

After several long silent moments of packing, Bitty speaks up again. “Do you think it’d be weird if I asked Holster to come to Georgia with me for break?” 

Lardo looks up from where she’d been contemplating which shorts to bring before dumping them both into her bag. 

“I mean,” Bitty continues, words coming out unbidden, “I know it’s his last spring break but he and Ransom only have sorta vague plans to meet up at some point and the two of them are going to be living together soon so it’s not like I’d really be -” 

“Bitty,” Lardo says with a look that immediately stops Bitty’s rambling. “I’m 97.2% positive more than half the reason he isn’t coming with me and Shits to Jersey or with Ransom and March to Toronto is because he was leaving his plans open for you.” 

Bitty is rendered speechless. Did Holster seriously keep his entire week plan free for  _ Bitty _ ?

“The other reason,” Lardo continues, as though Bitty isn’t having a mini crisis, “is that he’s too scared he would be intruding or something.” 

“Um,” Bitty says eloquently. “You really think I should ask him then?” 

Lardo sighs and crosses to Bitty, grabbing his face and squishing his cheeks together. “YES.” 

He could do it he thinks, except his flight leaves tomorrow and Holster probably wouldn’t want to do something so last minute. On the other hand, what’s the worst thing that could happen, Holster saying no? 

The only other thing is, he was sort of planning on coming out to his parents this week, not that he had a definite plan or anything - but he is sick of wondering what their reaction would be and tired of watching what he says after being so open at school. Bitty tells Lardo as much and she points out that it wouldn’t hurt to have some moral support. 

Bitty still hasn’t completely decided when Holster appears in Lardo’s doorway and shoots Bitty a goofy grin. Bitty can’t help but smile back and the words seem to pour out of his mouth unbidden. 

“Want to come to Georgia with me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!


	3. Chapter Three

The flight home is uneventful, save for Holster bouncing excitedly in his seat as though he’s a two year old, but Bitty was sort of expecting that. Bitty’s parents texted him they’d be waiting for them at baggage claim and Bitty feels so nervous he thinks he might throw up. 

“Hey,” Holster says as they walk through the airport, “take a breath Bits. You don’t have to tell them if you aren’t ready yet.” 

Bitty bites his lip and looks up at Holster. Holster smiles and grabs Bitty’s hand giving it a quick squeeze. 

“Take it from me, I’m an expert at not coming out.” 

Bitty huffs out half a laugh, which was surely Holster’s intention, and he’s already thankful he invited his friend on this trip. They round a corner to where the luggage carousels are and Bitty tries to peer around the crowds to spot his parents. 

“Is that them?” Holster says, dropping Bitty’s hand to point. 

Bitty looks in the direction Holster is pointing and takes a fortifying breath. “Yup.” 

As soon as his parents spot him, his mama rushes up and hugs him tight. Bitty breathes in the familiar scent of her shampoo and sighs, relaxing into her embrace. When he pulls back a moment later Coach claps him on the back in a rare show of affection. 

“You must be Adam,” his mama says, looking up at Holster. “I think we met when I visited Dicky at Samwell.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Holster says, shooting Bitty a quick grin. “We did meet when you came to visit Dicky.” 

Bitty rolls his eyes at the nickname and hopes Holster won’t make a habit of using it. His mom hugs Holster and tells him to call her Suzanne. Coach shakes his hand and Bitty feels irrationally proud when Coach asks him how tall he is. 

“You ever play football?” Coach asks less than ten minutes after meeting the man. Bitty almost commends him on his restraint. 

Holster shakes his head, as the the carousel begins bringing out the bags. “No sir, I’ve been playing hockey since I was a kid - there wasn’t ever any time for anything else.” 

“A big guy like you, I bet you’re really something on the ice.” 

Bitty knows his dad means it to be a compliment for Holster and probably nothing else, but Bitty feels the dig anyway. Holster’s knocks his arm into Bitty lightly and Bitty can’t help but wonder if it was intentional or not. 

“I’m pretty good, but your son skates circles around me.” 

Coach looks at Bitty and there’s surprise there on his face and maybe a little bit of pride too. Before Bitty can think too long on it, he spots both their bags making their way towards them. Holster reaches out and grabs both bags swiftly and bats Bitty’s hand away when he tries to carry his own. 

“I’ve got it Dicky,” he says and Bitty doesn’t bother biting back his groan. 

The drive to his parents house passes quickly and Bitty’s surprised at how well his father is able to hold a hockey centric conversation with them. 

“It’s too bad you boys didn’t make it this year. You think losing that Zimmerman kid hurt your playoff run?” 

“I think it was probably a combination of a lotta things Coach,” Bitty says. Holster’s staring at him and Bitty shifts a little in the back seat so they’re facing each other. He silently mouths  _ what,  _ but Holster just shakes his head. 

And it’s while Holster is talking about his co-captaincy that Bitty realizes he didn’t even feel a twinge of regret when Coach mentioned Jack, huh. 

By the time they reach the house Suzanne has banned any more hockey talk for the rest of the day. Bitty goes to take his bag once they get out, but Holster beats him to it so Bitty just leads him to his room they’ll be sharing while he’s here. His parents both suggest they go to bed since they already stopped for food on the way home and the two of them are admittedly exhausted from traveling all day.

The deflated air mattress is in the corner and Holster sets both their bags next to it, smiling at Bitty. He stalks towards Bitty with enough intent that Bitty backs up towards his bed with his hands up in surrender. 

“Adam Birkholz, what are you doing?” Bitty asks, trying to sound firm, but the overtired laugh that threatens to break through sort of loses the effect. 

Adam lunges forward and they both fall back onto the bed, Bitty pinned beneath him. 

“I’m fighting you for the air mattress obviously,” he says, grabbing both of Bitty’s hands and pinning them over his head. “And it looks like I’m winning.” 

Bitty laughs breathlessly and wiggles until he’s situated directly below Holster before flipping them. Holster’s eyes go wide in shock and Bitty smiles smugly, straddling his hips. He knows Holster is terribly ticklish and Bitty isn’t above playing dirty. He attacks Holster until his laughter is more air than sound. 

“How - about - we - share - the bed?” Holster asks between breathy laughs. 

Bitty climbs off Holster so he can catch his breath, his own heart racing. He puts his finger to his chin and taps it. “Hmm, how about you concede defeat and accept the air mattress?” he says, and it’s definitely not at all because he’s scared to share a bed with Holster. 

Moving faster than should be humanly possible Holster stands and grabs Bitty before tossing him onto the bed. “Fine,” he says melodramatically. “I accept my fate. Though I call for a rematch tomorrow when I’m not about to fall asleep standing up.”

Bitty laughs and gets up from the bed to roll out the air mattress and plug it in so it can start filling. “Come on tough guy,” he says, with a teasing glint to his eye. “Let’s go brush our teeth.” 

They get ready quickly and before he knows it they’re both snuggled up under their respective covers with the lights out. 

“You know,” Bitty says conversationally. “Since you’re a guest I was planning on letting you have the bed.” 

Holster groans and a pillow smacks Bitty in the face a moment later. Bitty falls asleep smiling. 

 

The first few days pass by quickly. Bitty takes Holster on a town tour where he oohs and ahhs at everything - even if it’s not ahh worthy. He also tries to show off his baking skills to Suzanne which is hilarious since said baking skills mostly involve mixing and grabbing things from high shelves.

Holster even demonstrates picking Bitty up to reach things before stalking towards Suzanne with open arms in offering. She surprises all of them when she takes him up on it. So Holster parades around the Kitchen with Suzanne held in front of him. They’re all laughing so hard Coach comes in from the living room to ask what’s so funny. Bitty wishes he had a camera ready to take a picture of the look on Coach’s face when he entered the kitchen to see Holster carrying Suzanne. 

Eventually Holster sets her down and heads into the other room with Coach so he ‘won’t be any more of a menace.’ Bitty is watching him walk away when his mama’s hand falls on his shoulder and he jumps. 

“I like him,” she says, nudging Bitty’s shoulder. 

“Me too.” Bitty smiles. 

 

That night, Holster’s flopping around on the air mattress for fifteen minutes before Bitty opens his covers in invitation. Holster tries to decline, and Bitty wishes the moonlight were just a little bit stronger so he could read his expression. 

“Come on Adam,” he says, “just get in here.” 

A moment later there’s a warm body clambering up into the bed with him and Bitty’s suddenly glad for the darkness because he knows he must be blushing something fierce. 

“Hey,” Holster says, breath puffing across Bitty’s lips because he has a twin sized mattress which is barely big enough for him, let alone the two of them. 

There’s less than an inch between them and Bitty’s heart is racing. He closes his eyes because they’re too close and he doesn’t want to do something stupid like close the distance between them. 

“I told your dad we’d drop by the school tomorrow afternoon to talk to his athletes.” 

Bitty’s eyes fly back open and accidentally kissing him is definitely the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. “You told him what?!” 

Holster winces, fingers tentatively reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair off Bitty’s forehead. “Sorry, I thought you wouldn’t care. I can tell him we can’t if you want.” 

Bitty sighs and shakes his head. “Nah it’s fine. I just don’t have the fondest memories of high school.” 

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” Holster says, “I think he wants us to come to try to inspire his team to try a little harder in school and football so they can continue in college.” 

Bitty harrumphs. “Sure, maybe that’s why he wants you there.” 

Holster’s fingers are trembling when they touch the underside of Bitty’s chin and pull up gently so they’re looking at one another. “You know what he told me, while you and your mom were baking?” 

Bitty shakes his head as much as he’s able with Holster’s fingers on his jaw. 

“I was talking about that fucking  _ amazing _ goal in the game against the Saints earlier this year, you remember the one?” 

Bitty nods, it had been in the last thirty seconds of a game that had been previously tied. Holster and Ransom had lifted him up onto their shoulders afterwards. 

“He said, Junior’s always been a natural born athlete, that’s why I always pushed him towards football. I’m glad he’s found his sport.” 

Bitty’s eyes feel glassy. Why can’t Coach ever seem to tell  _ him  _ that?

Holster fingers trail along Bitty’s jaw for a moment before he wraps him up in a hug. “He wants you there tomorrow Bits,” Holster says softly, “even if he has a hard time saying it.” 

When Bitty wakes the following morning Holster’s already gone from the bed, and Bitty doesn’t think about the little pang of disappointment in his gut that he doesn’t get the chance to wake up beside him. 

Bitty’s stomach is in knots all morning until his mother finally kicks them outside telling them to enjoy the weather before they have to go up north. So Bitty slips into his swim trunks and uncovers the pool while Holster digs through his bag, swearing, that he packed his own swimsuit. 

Bitty is sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet dangling over the edge when strong hands grip his waist from behind and he’s hoisted up into the air. Bitty screeches and latches onto Holster like a koala because he is not about to let himself be thrown into this pool. But somehow the action of Bitty wrapping his legs around Holster’s waist throws him off balance and they both go crashing into the water. 

Bitty comes up spluttering and splashes Holster the second he breaks the surface because the water is  _ cold  _ this early in the spring no matter what northerners think. Holster laughs and swims towards Bitty with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Uh uh,” Bitty says swimming backwards away from him. 

Holster keeps swimming towards him and the smile on his face is not at all innocent. “Here,” he says, “I’m helping.” 

Before Bitty can even think about what that means, Holster’s strong arms are wrapping around him and he’s being lifted up halfway out of the water because Holster is a giant and can somehow touch?? this deep. 

Holster sort of shifts him around so his hands are on Bitty’s ass and they’re facing one another with Bitty’s legs on either side of them and Bitty cannot breathe. He has a height thing, okay so sue him.  _ Checking, boogers, cold water, mama WHO IS RIGHT INSIDE.  _ He’s still trying to get ahold of himself when the screen door opens and his mama steps out onto the back patio. 

“Oh aren’t you boys cute,” she says, setting a tray with drinks and a book down on the little table between the lawn chairs before sitting down. 

“Thanks,” Holster says and Bitty sort of expects him to drop him and back away, or throw him into the water as if that was his intention the whole time. But Holster’s hands remain very firmly on Bitty’s ass and a smile blooms on his face at the compliment. 

It’s like he’s not embarrassed at all and Bitty sort of has to wonder if it’s because he’s always touchy feely with his friends - though to be fair whenever Holster carried Ransom before it was always piggyback, at least when Bitty was watching. Bitty has always been super conscious of where his hands were around other boys, but his mama doesn’t act like it’s weird so she must think they’re just messing around. As soon as Bitty thinks that he starts squirming in Holster’s arms. He takes the hint and drops Bitty back into the water, because they  _ are _ just messing around. He and Holster are just friends - so he shouldn’t even be worried about his mama thinking it’s something else. It’s not like they’re dating or anything. 

“I feel like you might be addicted to picking my son up,” Suzanne says with a laugh. 

Holster swims over to the edge of the pool and rests his arms out of the water. 

“I most certainly am,” he says, throwing Bitty’s mom a wink.

Bitty rolls his eyes and swims over, splashing Holster as he does. 

“Dicky!” Holster says, half reprimanding and fully teasing. 

“I brought out some sweet tea for y’all if you get thirsty while swimming. Now don’t mind me,” she says, picking up the book beside her, “I’m just going to soak up this nice weather.” 

They thank her for the tea and the teasing mood from before floats away on a warm spring breeze. Bitty and Holster race the length of the pool a couple times, and even though Holster is a giant, Bitty wins every time. 

“Rematch,” Holster says, still catching his breath after he caught a lungful of water. “Butterfly stroke.” He can swim just fine, but as soon as he starts trying to swim faster his limbs flail every direction and he starts sucking in water. It’s kind of adorable

Bitty agrees to the competition and maybe doesn’t swim quite as fast as he can - but no one can blame him for throwing the race when it likely just saved Holster’s life. Holster does a couple underwater flips to celebrate before torpedoing towards Bitty and crashing into him with a smile. 

“Hi,” he says, head only just out of the water. 

“Hi,” Bitty repeats reaching out to swipe Holster’s hair back from his forehead. 

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until his fingers are in the thick blond locks and Holster is leaning into his hand like a pleased cat. He pushes down and dunks Holster before he even thinks about it, racing to the other end of the pool with a spluttering Holster behind him. 

Holster is closing in on him and Bitty tries to pass him to head back towards the deep end when Holster’s arms wrap around him and suddenly he’s flying up out of the pool before crashing back towards the water. Bitty is sure he looks like a wet rat, though to be fair he is the one that started it. He chases after Holster and tries to wrap his arms around him and launch the other man into the water rather unsuccessfully. Holster’s laugh is breathless as Bitty sort of throw/pushes Holster a foot. He begins swimming slow lazy laps along the length of the pool as Bitty floats on his back, basking in the warm Georgia sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next update will probably be Monday


	4. Chapter Four

Holster keeps up a constant stream of chatter on the drive to the school, though Bitty doesn’t hear most of what he says. The student parking lot is full of rusted out pickups with the occasional jeep and Bitty sinks back into his seat wondering why he agreed to do this again. **  
**

He stops the car in an empty spot in the back of the lot. Bitty moves to open the door but Holster stops him with tentative fingers on his wrist.

“It’s going to be okay Eric.”

Bitty’s pulse quickens at the use of his first name, or maybe it’s the slow back and forth brush of Holster’s fingers against the inside of his wrist.

Holster pulls his hand back and laughs self deprecatingly. “Okay that was weird, I’m gonna stick to calling you Dicky.”

Bitty laughs, which was surely Holster’s intention and punches him in the shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Holster holds his hands up in defeat. “Bitty it is.”

By the time they reach the football fields it looks like practice is starting to wind down. As soon as Coach spots them he smiles and waves them over. Bitty’s fingers itch to reach for Holster’s, but he refrains. They are just friends. There’s no reason for him to want to hold Holster’s hand. Still, when Holster claps a hand on his shoulder as they approach his father and the team, the tension vibrating within him eases.

“Okay boys,” Coach says, getting the team’s attention. Bitty tries to focus as Coach introduces them, but the words flow over him as he concentrates on not fainting in front of two dozen high school boys.

“Junior,” Coach says, startling Bitty into stepping forward and thereby losing Holster’s reassuring touch. Bitty tries not to feel the loss too keenly. “Want to tell ‘em a bit about playing for an NCAA team?”

“It’s great,” Bitty says lamely and how can he sum up three life changing years to a bunch of half interested high schoolers. “A big difference is being away from home and still keeping up on your work without anyone there to remind you.” His audience isn’t enraptured with the advice, though Bitty can’t blame them. It’s probably something they could find in any college advice column online if they looked.

“They hockey - er football I guess - is great and you’ll be playing at a higher level than you ever have before. The best advice I have for y’all is to pick a school that’s the right fit for you, people wise. Because the dorms are all the same, the food - y’all the food is gonna be awful, the classes, the professors, none of that matters as much as finding your people.” Bitty’s gaze flicks to Holster of it’s own accord, catching a glimpse of his fond smile before he notices Bitty looking.

“So I guess what I’m saying is as long as y’all find your people, relax and everything else will fall into place.” By the end of his speech he’s at least caught more than half the group’s attention, which he’ll call a win.

Holster talks about being a captain and somehow manages to bring the conversation around to Pushing Daisies. Before Holster can get really going into the pie related tv discussion, Coach claps him on the back and dismisses practice since it is the off season, thanking them both.

“Eric,” Coach says, pulling him aside. “I want you to know, I’m proud of you son. It sounds like you’re doing real well at that school of yours.” He shifts from foot to foot. “Maybe next season your Mama and I can come up for a game?”

Bitty looks away from Coach towards Holster where he is chatting with a couple players, and blinks rapidly.

“Thanks Coach,” Bitty says, clearing his throat. “I’d like that.”

Coach smiles at him and pats him on the shoulder a little awkwardly before heading back towards the building housing the locker rooms. Bitty is still staring after him when a student who’d been lingering steps up to him. For a moment Bitty is sixteen again, with a tall heavily muscled boy in football pads standing uncomfortably close and he winces before jerking himself back to the present.

“Uh, Junior?” the kid says, sounding unsure of himself.

“Bitty.” He extends a hand.

The guy grasps Bitty’s outstretched hand and shakes it with surprising gentleness for someone of his size.

“Marco,” he says, shooting a glance at the players still talking to Holster. “I uh, just wanted to thank you. I sorta always wondered why Coach was so good about not letting the other guys get away with shit in the locker room and - well now it makes a lot more sense.”

Bitty’s interest is definitely piqued. He probably shouldn’t feel shocked that Coach doesn’t tolerate bullying in his locker room, but he can’t help being surprised. It makes sense, he supposes after everything he went through. But still, to have this hulking football player stand before him and tell him point blank that not only did the other boys pick on him, but that Coach put an end to it - Bitty is stunned.

“I-I didn’t know Coach did that,” he finally manages to choke out.

“Oh yeah,” Marco says. “When I first joined the team the other guys gave me shit - cause I’m gay ya know?” he says, easy as anything. “And like one week into practice Coach overheard them and instead of ignoring it or something, he looked about ready to murder them. Made ‘em do suicides all the rest of the week instead of participating in regular practices. Hasn’t been an issue since.”

“Oh,” Bitty says unsure of what else there is to say.

“Coach thinks I got a shot at a D1 school if I can keep my grades up.” He wipes at a trail of sweat dripping down his forehead. “Thing is there might not be a Coach Bittle at college you know? And I’m not going back into the closet.”

“You should consider Samwell,” Bitty says, having never in a million years expected to have this conversation today. “They’re D1 and pretty progressive. Got a decent football team too.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he says. “Thanks Bitty. For everything.”

Bitty is still trying to come up with a response to that when Marco walks over to Holster and the two football players still talking to him.

“Quit flirting and give me a ride home Carter,” he says loud enough for Bitty to hear as he slings an arm around a boy just a hair shorter than him who’s blushing something fierce.

The boys leave and Holster ambles over to Bitty with a smile on his face.

“So what do you think?” he asks, bumping Bitty’s shoulder as they head back to the car. “I personally think it was a resounding success.”

Bitty smiles, thinking back to his conversations with Coach and Marco. “Yeah. I think it was.”

That evening, Holster is already in Bitty’s bed by the time he gets back from brushing his teeth, arms opening in invitation when he spots him. Bitty rolls his eyes and clambers up into bed with him.

After sitting in silence for several long minutes Bitty sighs. “I think I’ll tell my parents tomorrow.”

Holster freezes, hand stopping the soothing circles it’d been rubbing into Bitty’s back just a minute ago. Bitty hadn’t even noticed the motion until he stopped.

“That’s a good idea,” Holster says. “Still gives them a day to get used to the idea before we leave.”

Bitty nods and his head brushes up against Holster’s shoulder. “I’m really nervous.” His voice cracks.

“Oh Bits,” Holster breathes, “come ‘ere.” He pulls Bitty to him until his head is cushioned on his shoulder and wraps a protective arm around his back. Bitty appreciates that Holster doesn’t give him hollow, impossible promises. “Do you want me with you?”

Bitty shakes his head, though the offer is tempting. “This is something I should do alone. Though maybe you could stay nearby?” Bitty asks, glad for the excuse of their positions to avoid eye contact. “In case I need you.”

“Of course,” Holster says. “Any time Bitty, seriously.”

Bitty hums at the reassurance, exhaustion from the busy day finally catching up to him. He’s just dozing off when he feels the slightest pressure at the top of his head, though Bitty’s eyes drift shut and his breathing evens out a moment later, so he can’t be sure if it’s real or just a dream.

When he wakes, their legs are tangled together and Holster’s arms are wrapped around him as though he’s a teddy bear. Bitty’s heart skips a beat and he smiles. He doesn’t mind. He watches as Holster blinks awake.

“Hi,” he whispers, not moving his hands from Bitty even now that he’s awake.

“Hi.” Bitty’s heart is beating double time.

There’s a series of knocks at the door to the tune of shave and a haircut - which Bitty knows means he’s got about 5 seconds before his mother comes bursting into his room. Bitty leaps up from the bed and is standing, sleep mussed in the middle of his room when his mother peeks her head in the door.

“Morning boys.”

“Good morning,” Holster repeats, sitting up and stretching, material from his sleep shirt pulling up to reveal the patch of skin above his shorts.

Bitty’s mouth is dry when he looks away. Because how can Holster be so calm and casual about this? Not only is he in Bitty’s bed, but the air mattress has very obviously not been slept on, and sure he’s always a tactile person, but it’s not as though Suzanne knows that.

“I made waffles since you’ll be leaving too early to have a big breakfast tomorrow. So come down for them once y’all are ready.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Bitty says weakly.

As soon as the door shuts behind her he collapses back onto the bed.

“Umphf,” Holster says, as Bitty’s weight lands on him. “You’re heavier than you look.”

Bitty rolls his eyes and doesn’t move. “Sorry Holster,” he says, “I’m pretty sure I just died of embarrassment.”

Holster jostles him and shifts so they’re laying side by side again. “Relax Bits, it’s not like she walked in on me sucking your dick or something.”

Bitty starts choking on nothing, spluttering as he tries to calm his erratic heart. Ohmygod, Bitty covers his face with his hands as Holster laughs and laughs.

They make it downstairs for breakfast a few moments later, still in their pajamas. Bitty’s jittery and can’t focus on the conversation flowing around him. More than once Holster has to nudge him to speak. As soon as they’ve finished with breakfast Holster goes to get ready for the day, presumably to give Bitty a chance alone with his parents and it’s now or never.

Bitty’s sitting try to psych himself up for it when Coach starts to stand to leave the kitchen and he needs to do it now.

“Uh,” Bitty says, “Can I talk to you both for a minute?”

His mother nods and his father sits back down, a stern expression resting on his face.

“So,” Bitty says and he just needs to say it. “I’m gay.”

“We love Adam, sweetheart,” Suzanne says with a big smile.

“Okay…” Bitty says slowly. “I’m glad, but uh I was sort of hoping you’d acknowledge that I just came out.”

“Didn’t you already tell us you were gay?” his Mama says, and wait what?

“Uh no.”

Coach’s silence scares him and Bitty has no idea what’s going on.

“I’m confused,” Coach finally says, and Bitty was at least expecting this, he has a whole series of talking points ready to explain it all to him, but before Bitty gets the chance Coach continues. “I thought you were sitting us down to tell us you were dating Holster.”

“Are you sure you didn’t tell us already?” his Mama asks.

Bitty shakes his head. “I’m sure I didn’t,” he says voice going up an octave. “I’d remember if I came out already.”

“Oh,” Coach says. “Do you want to tell us again and we’ll pretend that this is new information?”

“Oh yes! We could do that Dicky, do you want to try again?”

Bitty shakes his head mutely. They knew, they already knew. “That’s okay, I’m uh - I’m going to go upstairs and tell Holster he can come down now.”

“I’m glad you found someone sweetheart,” Suzanne says, wrapping him up in a hug.

“We’re not - um -we’re not dating,” Bitty says and this entire conversation has been so confusing.

“Oh, why not?” Coach asks him and Bitty is going to pass out, he’s seriously going to faint right now.

He puts a cool hand to his forehead and begins backing out of the kitchen. “I don’t know,” he says, stumbling to the stairs blindly.

Once Bitty reaches the top of the stairs he almost crashes into Holster, who was clearly just eavesdropping - not that Bitty expected any different.

“Are you okay?” Holster asks, reaching out to wrap Bitty up in a hug.  

Holster’s embrace is safe and warm and Bitty nods against his chest, not pulling away. After a few long moments Bitty realizes that Holster is shaking. Bitty pulls back from the hug, worried, until he sees that Holster is almost bursting with barely contained laughter.

“Oh my god,” Holster says, finally letting out his loud almost hysterical laughter. Bitty finds his mouth quirking up in response as he waits for Holster to calm himself down and catch his breath. “Oh my god,” he repeats, wiping his eyes. “Sorry - Sorry Bits. But that was either the most successful or unsuccessful coming out of all time.”

Bitty shrugs and chuckles weakly. “I still feel jittery though. It’s like they know and they’re completely cool about it but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. I kinda feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“Oh Bits,” Holster says, sobering instantly. He steps forward and wraps Bitty up in a hug once more. “It’s okay. Everything is okay. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Bitty buries his head in Holster’s chest and takes several deep calming breaths. He doesn’t know how long they stand like that, but when they finally move out of the embrace his arms tingle.

“Better?”

“Better.” Bitty nods.

“So does that mean I can tease you now about your parents assuming we’re dating?”

Bitty laughs and knocks their shoulders together. “You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” Holster shakes his head and slings an arm around Bitty’s shoulder.

After his initial shock, Bitty is relieved his parents reacted so well. He thought that maybe his mom suspected, but he never would’ve guessed that they’d both make a non-issue out of it. He shoots off a quick text to the group chat to let them all know it went well and receives a bunch of happy emojis and congratulatory texts in response along with a plea from Lardo for the whole story when he gets back - which is sure to end in excessive chirping even with Holster promising to keep his mouth shut about it.

The only unfortunate result of his coming out is the relentless questions his parents ask him the rest of his visit. They want to know all about his dating history, and refuse to believe him when he says that he’s never had a boyfriend. His mom also apparently thought he was dating Jack last year which - what?? The thought almost makes him laugh now, whereas a year ago it probably would’ve made him cry.

Bitty thought he’d make it out of the week relatively scar free when his parents bring up his non-relationship with Holster on the car ride to the airport.

“So you two aren’t dating then?” Suzanne says, twisting around in her seat to face them.

“Just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t have guy friends Mama.”

“Oh bless your heart,” Suzanne says, with an only somewhat condescending tilt of her head. “I don’t think you’re dating because you’re friends. I think you’re dating because Adam hasn’t been able to take his hands off of you this entire trip. You two were pretty snuggled up together when we watched that movie Tuesday night too. I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh so much since you were a kid.”

“Don’t forget that Holster picks you up all the time,” Coach says, cracking a smile when he meets Bitty’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “That’s how I used to flirt with your mother back in the day.”

Adam is frozen and Bitty can’t speak, every single word in his vocabulary has just fled his brain. He has to tell them they’re wrong - but it’s not as though they’re listing off things that haven’t happened.

Before Bitty can give himself a headache thinking about everything, his mother continues. “Plus yesterday morning you looked mighty guilty when I walked into your room Dicky.” A deep red flush blooms on his cheeks and Bitty chances a glance at Holster who seems just as stunned. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide things from us. We love you Eric. We love Adam. We’re not going to be upset you’re dating.”

Coach nods.

“We aren’t,” Bitty says finally finding his voice, “we aren’t dating Mama. I swear.”

His mom turns further in her seat to make eye contact with Holster. “Adam?” she says. “Is my boy lying to me?”

Holster shakes his head mutely. He clears his throat. “No ma’am.”

Coach and Suzanne share a look as she turns around, one that Bitty can’t interpret. The rest of the ride to the airport is quiet, save for the country music Coach has piping through the radio.

There’s three inches of space between him and Holster. It might as well be a mile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #supportive Coach and Suzanne for the win


	5. Chapter Five

The flight back home is uneventful, save for the fact that the two of them don’t touch once the entire time. Bitty hadn’t noticed how much they touch until they’re not touching. It’s weird. He misses it.

When they get back there’s an impromptu kegster thrown in honor of Bitty’s coming out and he almost cries because these boys are so sweet. Almost immediately after the party Holster retreats to the attic for days in an attempt to buckle down and finish his senior capstone, and they’re still not touching. Bitty feels like a chunk of his flesh is missing.  

“It’s not supposed to feel like this,” Bitty laments to Lardo, one rainy spring afternoon, less than a month before graduation. “Right?”

Lardo rolls her desk chair towards him and pokes him with her foot. “What are you talking about Bitty?”

He shrugs and continues to stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s just things with me and Holster have been weird since we got back from spring break - I feel like I never see him anymore.”

“The two of you went to get frozen yogurt yesterday before he cajoled you into watching an episode of Angry Beavers together.”

“Yeah but…” They did hang out yesterday, and the day before that, but he still misses him and he doesn’t know why.

“Though he isn’t as handsy with you,” Lardo hums. “So maybe that’s it. What happened on spring break that would make him avoid touching you so much?”

Bitty blushes just thinking of what his parents said. “He really doesn’t touch me as much?” he asks instead of answering even though he knows it’s true as soon as he says it. Sure Holster still throws an arm around his shoulder, but it falls away a moment later - and he hasn’t picked Bitty up in days.

Lardo remains silent in that way that she does and Bitty suddenly finds himself blurting the entire embarrassing story. He can’t help wondering if his parents’ comments made Holster uncomfortable and that’s why he isn’t as tactile with Bitty anymore.

“Do you think I should apologize to him for what my parents said?”

“Yeah.” Lardo shrugs. “Or you could straight up say you miss him touching you so much and ask why he stopped.”

Bitty shakes his head before Lardo’s even finished talking. There’s no way he could ever be that blunt. Lardo shrugs again and wheels her chair back over to the desk.

“Then feel free to continue pining after him.”

Bitty blanches. “I’m not pining.”

He just misses Holster when he’s not around and he wants to make him smile and when he laughs Bitty can’t help but laugh too because it makes him happy to see Holster happy and he thinks about Holster a lot - like a lot a lot, and more than once he’s caught his mind wandering in the shower and had to turn the temperature way down. Bitty’s heart thumps as though it’s trying to escape it’s bony cage just thinking about him.

Maybe he is pining.

He spends the next few days cognizant of his every action around Holster. They way his body seems to seek Holster’s out. The way that his eyes follow Holster as he dances around the kitchen as opposed to actually helping him bake. The way that his fingers twitch when they’re walking next to each other on the way to the dining hall. By paying more attention Bitty also notices the way that Holster’s cheeks flush and his eyes dart away when Bitty catches him staring.

Finals are over and technically only seniors are supposed to still be on campus, but that doesn’t stop the entire hockey team from taking up residence in the Haus. Even Shitty and Jack drive down for the weekend. It’d taken some maneuvering to figure out how everyone could fit but they finally decide Ollie and Wicks can sleep on the floor of the attic while Dex and Nursey share with Chowder and Tango and Whiskey take the floor of the living room. Shitty’s probably going to share with Lardo. Bitty sort of wonders where Jack’s going to sleep.

They’re all meandering around the downstairs, when Holster plops down on the floor alongside Bitty. Bitty smiles, because he can’t not smile when he’s with this boy.

“Hey Bitmeister,” Holster says, knocking their shoulders together. He doesn’t pull away afterwards so their arms remain touching. If Bitty moves his hand an inch to the right he’d be covering Holster’s palm. His pinky twitches. “I was thinking I could offer my bed to Jack, and that maybe you and I could share?”

Bitty turns to Holster and gazes at his flushed profile. He’s looking straight ahead to where Shitty is trying to convince Jack to wrestle with him. Bitty’s heart skips a beat. He tries not to look as flustered as he feels.  

“Sure,” he says, “Sounds good.”

He gets up a moment later and retreats to the kitchen under the pretense of getting another beer. He’s turning around to head back into the living room when he’s startled by Jack standing in the doorway. He scrubs a hand along the back of his neck with his gaze downcast.

“Hi,” Bitty says when Jack still hasn’t said anything.

“Hey,” Jack says, stepping further into the room. “I know we left things kind of awkward at graduation last year, and I know we’ve talked since but we haven’t talked, you know?”

Bitty nods. He knows what Jack means, the occasional texts outside of the group chat exchanging small talk are not the same as middle of the night heartfelt conversations.

“I just,” Jack huffs and Bitty waits, he knows talking doesn’t come easy to him. “Are you happy Bits?”

Bitty glances away from Jack into the living room where Holster and Ransom are currently competing in a squat challenge that they’re somehow both losing.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m happy.”

Jack glances down at the screen of his phone before pocketing it with a smile. “Me too.”

It’s many beers and fewer hours later that Shitty calls for order - with a pencil shaped like a miniature gavel and everything.

“Good citizens of the Haus,” he says, using what Bitty presumes is his lawyer voice. “It is time for us to partake in the time honored night-before-the-night-before graduation tradition of Truth or Dare.”

There’s a series of groans mixed with mild enthusiasm from the underclassmen who don’t know any better. Shitty starts them off by daring himself to streak in front of the Lax house - which honestly Bitty shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. They drink and the dares begin relatively benign as do the truths. But Bitty feels the weight of this night all the same, it’s not going to be the same next year. There won’t be anyone left who was here before he was a freshman. It feels weird. Bitty is going to miss this.

Bitty is shaken out of his melancholy thoughts when he’s dared to make them all a pie, which really isn’t all that creative on Chowder’s part, but Bitty won’t complain. He’s in the kitchen throwing the ingredients together quickly and already putting it into the oven when he hears someone else come in. Bitty shuts the oven and turns to the entrance.

“I was going to see if you need any help,” Holster says, “but it looks like you’ve got it handled.”

Bitty nods and wipes down the counter, setting the dishes into the sink to wash later. He’s about to walk back out into the living room when Holster speaks again.

“How are you doing?” he asks, softly in a way that is meant to sooth.

“Fine,” Bitty says, quirking his brow. “Why?”

Holster shrugs and steps closer, lowering his voice. “Because Jack’s here and he just kissed Shitty on a dare.”

“Oh,” Bitty says. And it’s so crazy that that would have sent his heart racing and his palms sweating just a year ago, but now? He barely even noticed the kiss. Holster’s hand had brushed up against Bitty’s thigh a moment before and all coherent thought had fled him. “I’m over him. I really do just want to be friends now Adam. Don’t worry about me.”

Holster’s brow is furrowed and he looks like he doesn’t necessarily believe Bitty, so Bitty grabs his hand and drags him out into the living room. They sit back down on the floor where they have been for most of the game and it’s a testament to how much they touch one another that no one even seems to acknowledge the fact that they’re holding hands except for a slightly surprised look from both Jack and Shitty.

“Ollie just asked Ransom to share something with the team that we don’t know about him,” Nursey says, filling them in.

Ransom glances around the group and smiles somewhat hesitantly. “So I’m bi,” he says.

Bitty freezes not daring to glance at Holster. The guys talk over one another with variations of the same supportive theme and Bitty’s mind is spiraling out of control. The noises in the room feel far away, as though he’s hearing them through muddled water.

He’s jolted back to the present when Holster says, “Hey Rans pick me next okay?”

Ransom smiles at Holster, fond. “Okay Holster, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Were you the one who ate the last piece of peanut butter pie I had saved in the freezer?”

“I think you meant to ask me what I think of my former straight crush being bi.”

The entire room goes deathly silent and even Shitty seems at a loss for words.

“Uh,” Ransom says, clearly flabbergasted. “What?”

“I’m glad you asked Rans,” Holster says. “As you all know, I’m gay and I was pretty sure I was in love with Ransom.” He pauses there as if waiting for them to affirm that they know this.

Nursey is the one to finally break the silence. He clears his throat. “Nah bro, pretty sure we didn’t know that. At least I didn’t.”

The rest of the group chimes in they didn’t know either. Bitty remains silent.

“Well anyway,” Holster says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I think my love for Ransom was more platonic you know? Maybe with a little crush mixed in at first. Cause bro, we’re definitely platonic soulmates.”

“Bro,” Ransom says, a slow smile spreading on his face. “Give me a hug man.”

Bitty has to scooch out of the way to make room as Ransom crawls across the circle and hugs Holster tight. Ransom pulls back after a long moment and shoots Holster another smile before retreating to his seat at the circle.

“How did you know your love for Ransom is different than romantic love?” Tango asks.

Holster takes a deep breath and his hand is trembling slightly where it’s resting in his lap. Bitty stares at it. He wants to reach over and steady it. He doesn’t.

“Because now I know what it’s like to be in love.”

Bitty looks up and is immediately trapped in Holster’s gaze. Holster’s eyes flick down a beat before landing steadily back on Bitty’s, a tentative smile playing at the edges of his lips even as his face is flushed beet red.

“Me?” Bitty squeaks and lord does his voice really have to choose this moment to go up an octave?

Holster nods and the rest of the room melts away. Bitty lunges forward and kisses him. Holster’s hands wrap around his waist and suddenly Bitty is in his lap, legs on either side of Holster’s hips. Holster’s teeth scrape his lip and Bitty opens to him, sucking Holster’s bottom lip into his mouth. His heart is in his throat and his stomach pulses with near frantic need. They’re kissing. He is kissing Adam Birkholz. And damn can that boy kiss.

Holster is rock hard beneath him and Bitty’s hips roll of their own accord. Holster moans into their kiss and Bitty wants that mouth on him. Adam rips his mouth away from Bitty’s and begins planting wet hot kisses along his jaw. Eric tilts his head up to give him better access and damn near melts when Holster sucks on his pulse point.

A wolf whistle is a jolting reminder of where exactly they are. Holster either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, teeth sinking into the soft skin of Bitty’s neck. Bitty hisses and Holster soothes the mark with feather soft kisses.

“Uh Hols- Holster,” Bitty says, breathlessly as Holster’s hands find their way to his ass. “Holster! We have an audience.”

Holster pulls away from Bitty’s neck reluctantly and gives him a shy smile. “Sorry Bitty,” he says, “I’ve been waiting a really long time to do that.”

“I’m not saying we should stop,” Bitty says, smiling down at him and ignoring the teasing catcalls from behind him. “I’m just saying that maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

“Oh,” Holster says, eyes going comically wide. “Oh.”

Suddenly Bitty is being lifted up in the air and Holster is standing with his hands still firmly on Bitty’s ass. His legs wrap around Holster’s waist of their own accord and he is certain that his face is on absolute fire right now.

“Not that this hasn’t been fun,” Holster says to the crowd at large, “but Bits and I are going to call it a night.”

They leave behind a cacophony of noise as Holster carries Bitty up the stairs with ease.

“Go get ‘em you beautiful motherfuckers,” Shitty calls.

Bitty buries his head in Holster’s neck and laughs.

“Oh my god Holster,” he says as they enter Bitty’s room. “Did we seriously just make out in front of all our friends?”

Adam kicks the door shut behind them and deposits Bitty onto the bed. “Yup,” he says standing front of Bitty looking a little more unsure now that they’re alone.  

Bitty stretches his arms out towards Holster who steps forward and clasps their fingers together. Bitty tilts back on the bed a little and pulls on Holster until he gets the memo and climbs on top of him.

Bitty leans up and kisses him, slow and sensuous. Holster’s hands are at his sides and Bitty’s fingers are tangled up in his hair. His hips rock up off the bed searching for friction.

“Wait,” Holster says, drawing back. “Um, sorry. I just - uh before we go any further, I figured we should talk.”

Bitty bites back a groan because of course Holster is right.

“I am in love with you Bitty,” he says with enough assuredness it knocks the breath from Bitty’s lungs. “And I don’t want this to be a fling or friends with benefits situation. I’m all in. I get it if you’re not ready for that - or if you want to stay friends -”

Bitty lunges up and kisses him. When they break apart several long, breathless moments later, Holster’s gaze is dazed and his lips are red and swollen.

“I love you too.” Bitty feels shy, nervous, even though Holster’s already said the words.

Holster absolutely beams at him. He starts slipping Bitty’s shirt off and Bitty gets the memo, fingers going to Holster’s hoodie. “I - I am moving in with Rans halfway between his school and my work,” he says between kisses pressed along Bitty’s bare chest even as his fingers slip beneath his shorts. “The place we found is only twenty-five minutes from Samwell.”

“Good.” Bitty smiles into the skin of Holster’s cheek and pulls down Holster’s boxers until they’re both bare with no barriers left between them.

“Just so you know,” Holster says, wrapping his fingers lightly around Bitty’s dick. He is about ten seconds away from spontaneously combusting. “If I don’t see you for more than 72 hours in a row I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you.”

Bitty’s laugh morphs into a groan when Holster’s grip tightens. “72 hours? That’s kinda short since you’ll have work and I’ll have class.”

Holster ducks down and kisses him, pulling away to whisper, “Okay how about 73 hours?” against Bitty’s lips.

Bitty hums and kisses him again. They don’t talk much after that. Holster’s hand slides off Bitty’s dick and he whimpers at the loss. Before he can really bemoan it Holster plants wet openmouthed kisses down his chest, taking a detour to each nipple before dipping down past Bitty’s belly until he’s squirming beneath him.

Then Holster’s lips wrap around the tip of his dick with impossible warmth and Bitty is not going to last long at all. Holster suckles at the head and Bitty’s never had a mouth on him like this before and he’s trembling within moments.

Holster ducks downward and uses the flat of his tongue to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before taking him even deeper.

“Hols - Holst,” Bitty chokes out, fingers fisting into the sheets.

“You good Bitty?” Holster says, releasing Bitty’s dick with an indecent pop.

“Oh my god Holster. Don’t stop.”

Holster jacks him loosely a couple times, hand sliding easily and Bitty needs his mouth back on him like now. Holster smiles at him and it’s not the soft smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes that he only ever smiles when he thinks Bitty isn’t looking. No this is his chirping smile, all playful and mischievous.

“Adam Birkholz,” Bitty says, trying to sound commanding and mostly coming across breathless. “You are not about to chirp me right now.”

Holster bends down and presses a quick kiss to Bitty’s lips.  

“There’s no better time for chirping than when you’re naked in someone else’s bed,” Holster smirks at him.

“You can chirp me when you aren’t sucking my dick,” Bitty says, reaching up to put a firm hand on either side of Holster’s head and guide him back down to where Bitty is hard and aching.

The air whooshes out of Holster’s lungs. He flushes bright red and his eyes are wide when he wraps his lips back around Bitty’s dick. Holster shifts to spread his legs, rocking his hips down into the bed and he wiggles his ass a little, sheets beneath him darkening from his leaking dick.

Bitty’s cock twitches in response.

He barely manages to choke out a warning before he’s coming down Holster’s throat. Holster sucks him through it, come seeping out the corners of his mouth faster than he can swallow. If it were physically possible, Bitty would be rock hard again just from the sight.

“Oh my god,” Bitty says, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Holster says, as if by explanation.

Bitty pulls his hand from his face and sits up. “Come here,” he says, reaching for Holster.

Holster’s dick is red and impossibly hard, a constant dribble of precum leaking from the tip as he climbs up next to Bitty. Bitty smiles, a soft sated thing and wraps his fingers around Holster’s dick. He thumbs the tip and pumps it slow a few times, before leaning forward and capturing Holster’s mouth in a kiss.

Holster bucks up into Bitty’s fist and moans against his lips. His hands are on his ass and he has a feeling that it’s going to become a regular occurrence. Bitty shivers and tightens his grip. He definitely isn’t complaining.

“Want me to return the favor?” Bitty asks, huskily.

Holster gasps and comes.

“Or not.” Bitty smiles, and wipes his now sticky hand on the sheets.

Holster is flushed vibrant red as he nuzzles into Bitty’s neck. “Well that was embarrassingly fast.”

Bitty doesn’t know how Holster manages to make himself small enough to curl around Bitty, but he does. “Don’t be embarrassed,” Bitty says, running a gentle hand through Holster’s hair. “That was so fucking hot.”

When Holster lifts his head up and there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Did you just curse, Dicky?” he asks with feigned incredulously.

Bitty rolls his eyes fondly and lunges forward to peck Holster just because he can. “What did I say about chirping.”

“Pretty sure it’s allowed as long as I’m not actively sucking you off - post coital pillow talk is fair game.”

Bitty groans. “I walked myself into that one, didn’t I?”

Holster nods and grabs Bitty, rolling them both until Bitty’s resting on top of him.

“I think if you didn’t do squats your entire ass cheek would fit in my palm.” He squeezes Bitty’s ass as if to test the theory.

Bitty laughs and leans down to cut him off with a kiss. They kiss so long that Bitty’s lips start tingling and they hear some of the other boys heading up to bed. Bitty ducks his head to Holster’s shoulder and kisses the bare skin lightly. He feels breathless at the thought of staying in bed and kissing Holster forever.

“Bro,” Holster says, tightening his hold on Bitty. “I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“You’re parents are literally never going to let us live this down.”

“Ugh, you’re definitely right.”  Bitty groans and nips at the juncture of Holster’s neck. “I hate you.”

Holster kisses him, slow and unhurried. “No you don’t.”

Bitty runs his fingertips lightly over Holster’s heart and smiles. 

He really doesn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a couple fun stray ends that didn't make it into the fic:  
> \- In chapter two when Bitty is drunk and thinking about how round Holster's ass is he definitely says that out loud  
> \- Holster may or may not have had a few dreams featuring Bitty after the whole shower debacle  
> \- When Holster is holed up in the attic "working on his capstone", he's actually spending most of the time panicking hard core about how vehemently Bitty denied they were dating  
> \- I'm @omg-kent-mashkov on tumblr so feel free to come say hi!
> 
> Well this is the end. Thanks so much for reading and commenting! I especially loved all the comments from people who didn't used to be Bitty/Holster shippers :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading/liking/commenting! I have most of this written and should update in the next couple days.


End file.
